


Complementary

by saintmichael



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Kink, Dom/sub, M/M, Master/Pet, Rough Sex, Sadism, aumichael!dean, dubcon, og!michael in an og!body, s14 divergent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28191018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintmichael/pseuds/saintmichael
Summary: Now that his vessel is tamed, AU Michael has one more person of importance to deal with. He heads to the Cage and rescues his other self, intending to strike a partnership with him. The Michael of this universe is extremely docile, however, and he quickly changes his mind and decides to make him his submissive boyfriend instead.Dubcon cause og!michael is a little bit out of it the first time.(Alternate title: Michael^2)
Relationships: Apocalypseverse Michael/Michael (Supernatural)
Kudos: 6





	Complementary

**Author's Note:**

> Note: In the original version of this fic, our Michael was implicitly using Adam as a vessel, creating borderline incest issues considering AU!Michael is wearing Dean. This was unintentional on my part so I have edited the story so that our Michael is wearing a different vessel.

Michael smiled down at the friends of his newly-tamed vessel, gasping on the floor while the useless handcuffs lay broken beside them. For the finishing touch, his coup de grace, he killed Dean’s brother and pet angel with his own hands. _They only died because you resisted, Dean,_ he whispered to the submissive vessel. _Remember that_.

The nephilim he picked up by the collar, wrapped him in bonds of Grace and stowed him in one of the offices in the tower. He would deal with him later. Jack had actually reminded him of another point of interest he needed to look into.

He flew to Hell, arriving with perfect precision just outside Lucifer’s Cage suspended below the rest of the plane. His alternate self was sitting in one of the corners; strangely, with a single pair of wings manifested, far too large for the deliberately tiny cage.

Rumour had it that this version of himself had gone crazy. But it was Lucifer who had spread this rumour. Michael took it with a very large grain of salt.

“ _Hello_ ,” he whispered, coming as close to his other self as possible while the Cage walls were in the way. His True Voice echoed around the cavernous pit, and the other Michael started, letting out a strangled cry of pain as his wings got tangled and stretched even further.

“ _Don’t do that_ ,” he scolded. “ _What on Earth has got into you?_ ” He had been hoping his other self would at least be slightly more competent than the rest of the idiots in this universe, but perhaps that had been too optimistic.

“Hurts,” said the other Michael, using his vessel’s tongue. “Hurts.”

“ _Of course it hurts. You should have stayed within your vessel’s body. It’s an excellent size for this Cage._ ”

“Cage?” He was trying to turn to get a look at Michael, crying out in pain whenever he managed to twist slightly and tear his wings even more. And then, apparently, he would forget this and try to turn again.

“ _The Cage you are in,_ ” said Michael, but his other self was clearly delirious with pain. “ _Stay still,_ ” he commanded. The other Michael gladly obeyed, instantly freezing in place.

Michael would need to retrieve him from the Cage _before_ he could talk to him. A shame, as it invited great danger upon himself. The other Michael should be even stronger than him, considering they were currently in his universe.

Michael took out a key from the items he kept on his person. It was the emergency key to the Cage he had made while building it on Father’s orders. Father had very much specified _not_ building a simple key to unlock it, but Michael had known him well enough to know there was a good chance he’d turn around, forgive Lucifer and demand his immediate release. Michael had grown excellent at anticipating future orders.

He hoped his other self had, too; he didn’t expect his key to work on another universe’s Cage, but he tried anyway. No.

“ _Turn your eyes only to look at me_ ,” he instructed his other self, flying into a viewable position. The Cage hadn’t been designed to allow the prisoner to look outside, but it was now covered in cracks in its design due to cosmic events. The other Michael rolled his eyeballs in confusion until he managed to focus on Michael.

“ _Did you make a key to the Cage? Like this_ ,” he said, dangling the key in view.

“Key?”

“ _A key to the Cage_ ,” he repeated. He started inspecting the walls of the Cage. It would probably be quicker to destroy the Cage from here than break seals, if he had to. It would make a lot of noise, draw attention, however. Not optimal.

The other Michael pulled out from his own Grace a near-identical key, staring between it and Michael’s with confusion.

“ _I see. Thank you._ ” The key wouldn’t work from the inside. What an ironic fate to befall his other self.

Perhaps there were big enough cracks in the Cage that he could actually retrieve items from inside it? He prodded a few, keeping in mind it would have to be close enough to where the other Michael was currently stuck for him to reach to. 

He found one big enough to stick half a claw through. Bingo. “ _The key, please_ .” His other self leaned over, gasping as his wings reflexively shifted with the movement, and hooked it on his claw. Michael took the key out of the Cage with genuine relief. “ _Good boy_ ,” he praised.

A smile graced the other’s lips, and he found his own mouths turning up in return.

Michael watched Michael lie on the luxury king bed he had found for him, holding on hard to a body pillow as he twitched uncontrollably. Michael had had to wrest a Grace-sealing straitjacket on his other self as he had kept spreading different pairs of equally injured wings in a panic. It wasn’t hard to imagine _how_ they had gotten into such a bad state. _Why_ was a more concerning issue; it was like his other self was completely confused about his own body and kept trying to use it, though he didn’t know how. He never tried to fly with his wings, after all.

He unfolded his arms with a sigh after watching the other Michael jerk about for an hour. It didn’t seem like there was any chance of him calming himself, so he’d have to sedate him to get an opportunity to fix his torn and broken wings for him.

He conjured the ingredients for a sedative strong enough for himself and mixed them into a vial.

“Michael, here,” he directed, gesturing with one hand as he used the other to fill a needle. His other self didn’t really manage to get any closer, so he bent over the bed to inject the sedative straight into his veins. The sedative took a few minutes to calm the twitching archangel, and when he finally fell still Michael wasted no time getting to work fixing his wings; he only had a short period before he would wake back up.

He was still in the middle of healing the last pair when his other self sleepily came back to consciousness. “Raphael?” he slurred. Michael’s hands stilled a bit at the name, but he forced them to keep working.

“No, I’m sorry. Raphael is dead.”

“Oh.” He clutched onto his pillow a bit tighter.

“You’re being such a good boy for me. Thank you,” he murmured, feeling a strange thrill as Michael relaxed in response.

“Who are you?” 

“I’m you, from another universe,” he told him. His other self was acting more lucid, but must not be fully there yet if he hadn’t already recognised himself. The other Michael twisted his head around to look at him.

“Your true vessel said yes to you,” he said in astonishment.

“Ah, no. This one is yours. I don’t have a ‘true vessel’ in my world.”

“Mine?” The other Michael looked hurt. Michael gently brushed the feathers of his now-healthy wing, and he shivered in response.

“Mine now,” he said candidly. “I did trick him, if that makes you feel better.”

“We’re not allowed to trick them,” his other self protested. “Father said -”

“Some people do as they’re told, and some people do as they like. I have decided to be the latter,” he smoothly informed him. “But you…”

He leaned in close to his other self’s younger face. “Well, perhaps we are more complementary than parallel.”

He had a strange compulsion to press his lips against the other’s, and he followed it. The other Michael turned his face away from the contact.

"You're rejecting me?" Michael said, not hurt, not amused. Simply genuinely confused.

"This is disrespectful to my vessel," the other muttered. "He would not approve."

"Your _vessel_?" Michael asked in disbelief. The thing was falling apart anyway; Michael was fairly skilled at keeping vessels intact, but trapped in a Cage for ten years, with no resources? He doubted there was even enough of a soul left in there to approve _or_ disapprove.

His other had a resigned expression on his face. Michael sighed. "I will fetch you another vessel. A soulless one. Then there will be no issue," he informed him.

"A soulless vessel? That doesn't make any sense. What would anchor my Grace?"

"I know, I know, but I've seen it done. The Castiel of your world, and your Lucifer." He constructed the vessel himself. The structure of Lucifer's would do: his other self was not exactly at full strength at the moment. He made the outside a good deal prettier, however. Soft curls of hair tumbled over brown skin. Perhaps he should moonlight as an artist.

He tossed the new body onto the bed. "In," he directed. His other self was not exactly eager to comply.

"A trap?" he wondered quietly, paling.

"You are already well and truly trapped," he pointed out. "Get in. But be careful; you're still vulnerable."

The other Michael crawled out of his vessel's eyes and mouth and seeped into the empty vessel. Michael disappeared the used vessel, sending him into storage for now; he hummed with approval at his other self's obedience as he pushed him down into the bed and plunged into his mouth, almost swallowing him whole. Michael had never had an interest in animal sex before, but the thought of taking his other self was causing an unfamiliar excitement to rise within him.

“Are you a narcissist?” the other Michael asked once he had withdrawn. He didn’t seem disgusted with the peculiar turn of events. Only curious.

“I suppose I am,” he murmured. He was getting hot in his stylish suit like he was a beast. He took the jacket off and knelt over the other, his heart rate slightly increased. “This is a pretty vessel, you know,” he said, cradling the other’s face. 

“Is it? Why?”

He traced a finger over the bones forming the facial structure. “Clean, straight lines, with enough baby fat to make it soft and youthful. Very attractive.” He was proud of his work, yes. What crime was there in that? The other stared back at him, without offering a single word of thanks. Tsk. 

He could feel his vessel’s - _his_ dick growing hard, straining against his pants. He took it out and rubbed it thoughtfully as he gazed into the other Michael’s ice blue eyes. 

“Touch this for me,” he ordered the other. He released him from the straitjacket in order to grab one of his hands and positioning it on his dick.

“I - okay,” said the other Michael, stroking up and down with uncertainty. 

“Good. That’s good,” he said, watching as a blush spread across the other’s face and he started stroking harder. This Michael was far too manipulatable. It was for the best that he was leaning away from proposing an equal partnership with him.

An _unequal_ partnership, however, was _very_ much on the table.

“Both hands,” he instructed. “Faster. You will be a good boy and make me ejaculate.”

“Y-yeah,” his other self stuttered, rushing to obey the instructions, pumping Michael’s cock much faster. Michael leaned down to kiss him again as a reward. Devouring his mouth for a second time felt even better than the first.

His other self had been jerking him off for a disappointingly short time when he felt himself on the cusp of orgasming. He took the other Michael’s hands off his dick and aimed it at his pretty face, spreading cum all over his pink cheeks and mouth as he came.

He needed more experience to last longer, he supposed. He had all his current and previous vessels’ memories of sex, but it wasn’t quite the same thing. 

He had sweated all through his clothes. What a shame. He cleaned himself up with a snap, but the other Michael was a different consideration. He examined him thoughtfully before rebinding him in the straitjacket. It would be a shame if he cleaned his cum-stained face too easily.

His other self looked down at it in dazed confusion. How sweet.

  
  


He was disappointed to see the other Michael had managed to clean his face while he had been out, even with his arms wrapped up in the straitjacket. He was sitting cross legged on the bed, staring into space.

“Good morning,” Michael greeted him as he came to stand in front of him. The other Michael narrowed his eyes at him, fully alert.

“Where am I? Is this still the Cage?”

“No, you are on Earth. No version of myself should be trapped in a prison built for Lucifer.”

“...You’re me,” the other Michael said, eyeing him up and down. “You said so earlier, didn’t you? I thought I was dreaming.”

“Was it a pleasant dream?” he asked, not bothering to hide his amusement.

“Not the part where my wings were on fire. If you’re talking about the making out, yes, I did like that.”

“Your wings weren’t on fire.”

“Yes, they were,” his other self argued. “It was horrible.”

“You must have been having a trauma induced hallucination,” he said slowly as understanding dawned. “You were set on fire nine years ago. But you had put it out by the time you fell in the Cage. Don’t you remember?”

“But - you spent all that time putting the fire out,” his other self said, sounding softer, more unsure.

“Your wings were heavily damaged from being repeatedly spread in the Cage. It wasn’t large enough to accommodate them. I was fixing the damage from that.”

The other Michael drew his knees up in front of his face, looking lost. Poor thing. Michael was feeling strangely protective of him. Or perhaps not so strange. He’d always had a rather strong self-preservation instinct.

“I have no grudge with you. I will let you go, if you wish. Or…”

“Or?”

Michael smiled, and bent down to stroke his other’s chin. “I think you deserve a master who will take care of you. We would make a great team, you know.”

He didn’t actually think the other Michael would refuse his offer. From the wry look on his face, he knew he knew.

“Fine. Just don’t make me call you Father.” 

Michael shoved his face down into the bed. “Actually, Pet, you will call me whatever I want.”

The other Michael struck him as vaguely dog-like. The domesticated kind.

“Please,” the other Michael said weakly. Michael licked his Pet’s throat as wetly as he could, before hissing into his ear.

“Call me Father.”

“Father,” said his other self, wincing.

“Good boy. Call me Master.”

“Master,” he repeated. That one came out much easier.

“Good boy.” He was already growing hard again; the other Michael’s submissiveness was far too seductive. “How long have you been waiting for someone to take charge of you like this?” He took out his cock and also released Pet’s, rubbing them together in his hand. “Tsk.” Pet was even harder than he was. 

“Too - too long,” his other self gasped out. “Please - my arms -”

“Hmm. I don’t think you’ve _earned_ the use of your arms,” he said, slowing his stroking down. Pet moaned a bit, but they had just started. He wouldn’t rush this time.

“How do I - but - can I earn them? Please?” He could almost hear his other self’s brain short-circuiting. He understood. He had spent so much time trying to rule as he thought Father had wished, as well. It forced a strange kind of independence on you. Force you to try and read someone’s mind. It was neglect. He wouldn’t neglect his other self.

“Yes, you can, but only when I tell you,” he told him. “You must be a good boy and wait for my orders.”

“Yes - yes, master,” he replied with relief. Michael increased his pace again as a reward. He quickly had Pet hot and twitching under his touch. 

He abruptly released both his and Pet’s cocks, and gave Pet a sharp tug around the base. The other Michael gasped out in shock as the bloodflow was halted.

“Take off your pants,” he ordered. The other Michael had the nerve to look confused. “I know those legs are working. That cum didn’t evaporate off your face.”

He shuffled away on the bed to give himself enough space to bend his legs up to his waist and grab the rim of his pants inbetween his toes, pushing his entire lower body into the area as he dragged the denim off his body. If a mortal had done it, Michael may have found it impressive. Given it was himself, he considered it sloppy.

“We’ll practise that,” he said calmly. “Now, get on your knees, and come here.” He indicated his erect cock; the other Michael knelt and bent over until his mouth was hovering over the head, the warm breath tickling it unbearably. Michael would have been annoyed but he knew Pet wasn’t teasing him, just trying to follow his orders exactly.

“ _Suck_ , Pet,” he said, relaxing as his other self obeyed. The cock slid smoothly down the other archangel’s throat as he sucked on it with a pleasantly steady pressure at a composed pace. It was a little too perfect.

“Be messier, Michael,” he told him, and shoved it in deep as a warning. His other self choked on it in surprise but got the message, head bobbing up and down frantically as he salivated and slurped on his cock.

Michael enjoyed the frenzied cocksucking. His new Pet was really eager to please, wasn’t he. They’d have a lot of fun, he mused. 

When he was close to his climax, however, he grabbed his other self’s short hair, holding his head still as he slammed his cock repeatedly down his throat. “Good boy, good boy,” he encouraged. “Keep that jaw nice and loose for me. You’re a _born_ cocksucker, Pet.”

When the other Michael blinked up at him happily, his open mouth curving up into a sweet smile, that did it for him. Michael came hard, releasing jets of cum into his other self’s mouth.

“Good boy,” he murmured, holding a thumb over Pet’s mouth. “Swallow all of it for me.”

He swallowed, and Michael pushed him back down onto the bed. “Well, I think you earned this jacket off, Michael,” he told him, benevolently removing it for him. He also took his jacket and shirt off and chucked them aside. Ugly things. He would burn them later. No version of Michael was allowed to be anything less than best dressed.

“On your hands and knees now,” he ordered. “Like a real dog.” The other Michael scampered into place. His other self so eagerly responded to orders, it was sad. He felt for the asshole with his fingers and lined his already-hard-again cock up with it.

“Don’t numb yourself,” he said coaxingly. “I want this to hurt.”

Pet tensed up a little, but said, “Yes, Master.”

He pushed his cock into his Pet’s hole, and it was so dry and tight it hurt _him_ a little. That was good though. He was enjoying the sensation. He moved in and out roughly, feeling blood spill onto his cock as the skin tore. The other Michael gasped out desperately.

“Hurts - please -”

“I know it hurts,” he said, shoving his cock in even harder. “It’s part of the experience, Pet. You will learn to enjoy this.”

He held onto his other self’s hips and started slamming into him at a steady pace. The friction was burning deliciously at his cock’s nerves, but as more blood spilled from his hole it lubricated it and he lost the dryness. It remained tight as he rammed into his Pet, though, the poor thing clenching desperately around the cock that was tearing it in half. He reached forward to pull Pet’s face back to him, licking off the tears that were streaming down his face.

“Good boy, Pet,” he said encouragingly. “You are such a good hole for my cock.”

Pet, completely flushed, stared back at him wordlessly, gasping and crying. Michael reached around to Pet’s own cock and started jerking him off as he continued to fuck into him. He had been so well-behaved, he deserved a treat.

“I’m coming, Michael,” Michael whispered. An idea struck him and he pulled out in order to sit on the bed and seat his Pet on the cock on his lap instead, lifting him up and down on his erect cock until he was finally pushed over the limit and letting loose more cum into his bloodied hole. 

“Good boy,” he said. The other Michael smiled weakly through the tears. Michael continued pumping his poor Pet’s cock; unattended to for most of the night he came fairly quickly, spilling into Michael’s hand.

“See? I told you you would enjoy it.”

His other self didn’t respond, wriggling uncomfortably on the cock jammed in his ass.

“Stay still, Pet,” he warned. He settled.

His other self was so submissive. How perfect. What a lovely Pet.


End file.
